


Taste-Test

by AceyEnn



Series: Femslash February 2017 [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cooking, F/F, Fluff, Humanstuck (implicitly)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9551051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceyEnn/pseuds/AceyEnn
Summary: Jane teaches Roxy how to cook.





	

Jane had always loved to cook. Yes, baking was her true passion, but she enjoyed anything that would result in something delicious. Food, to her, was a glorious fusion of art and science--and in many ways,  _ making  _ it was even more fun than eating it, if you asked her.

 

And her dad had taught her well. He'd taught her how to measure, how to figure out substitutions, the works. Most importantly, though, he'd taught her to taste-test. “It's better to know early on,” he'd told Jane, “if you need to add a little extra something, or if you need to cut back on something, or if it's really gonna be to your tastes.”

 

Jane had held onto her father’s culinary wisdom her whole life, and tonight, she was going to pass that wisdom on to someone else: her girlfriend.

 

\---

 

“So you’re gonna teach me how to cook, right?” Roxy asked excitedly, practically throwing the door to Jane’s house open.

 

“Well, you’re certainly enthusiastic to learn, so yes!” Jane chuckled. “Dad told me he’s going to be out pretty late tonight--there’s an office party, and his coworkers are way too fond of his cakes to let him skip out--and John’s having a movie night at Karkat’s place, so we have plenty of time to practice on our own.”

 

“Hella.”

 

The girls set their things down on the living room couch, and Jane led Roxy over to the kitchen. The smell of the cake Jane’s father had baked for the party still lingered in the air, a light, lovely fragrance.

 

It smelled like  _ home _ , at least to Jane.

 

She began to look through the myriad cookbooks stacked haphazardly on the counter, settling on an old favorite. Taking care not to topple the stack, Jane pulled it out, and began to flip through it. “No,” she muttered, “this one’s too difficult for a beginner...this one’s actually kind of gross...a-hah!”

 

Satisfied, Jane gestured Roxy over to the counter, pointing to the dish she-- _ they _ \--were going to make that night. “Pasta puttanesca,” she declared happily.

 

“...Doesn’t puttanesca mean, like, whore or something?”

 

“It...I don’t actually know! I don’t know any Italian, besides a few cooking terms and the like.” By the time Jane had finished speaking, Roxy had already pulled out her phone, and was googling the term.

 

“Yup,” Roxy said. “It legit means prostitute. We’re making hooker pasta.”

  
Jane laughed. “Well, I think you’ll enjoy it regardless.”

 

“Psh, are you kidding? Of  _ course _ I’ll enjoy it. I’ve eaten here before, y’all make the best food I’ve ever had.”

 

“You’re too sweet.” Jane gave her girlfriend a peck on the cheek, before moving to get the ingredients needed from the cupboards and fridge.

 

“It’s best to start with your  _ mise en place _ ,” she explained, pulling ingredients from their places and setting them down on the counter. “That means making sure you have everything you need and putting it all out, so you don’t have to hunt for things as you go.”

 

Roxy nodded. “Yeah, sounds smart.”

 

“Okay, so we have spaghetti, olive oil, anchovies, capers, diced tomatoes, garlic, and black olives. It’s quite a simple dish--a good one to start with.” Jane smiled fondly. “It’s one of the first things my dad taught me to cook. Roxy, could you grab a pasta pot and a large mixing bowl? They should be in the cupboard over there,” she continued, pointing to a nearby cupboard.

 

Roxy gave Jane a joking salute, and quickly found the pot and bowl. “This is the right pot, yeah?” she asked, holding it up.

  
“It sure is! Well-done. Now, we’ll want to bring the water to a boil. Fill the pasta pot with water and put it on the stove, would you?”

 

“Yeah, I can do that fo’ sho’. Uh, how full should it be?”

 

“Mostly full, but not overly so. Maybe three-quarters or so?”

 

“Aight. I’ll do that now.” Roxy filled the pot up and set it on the stove, then paused. “Uh, Janey?”

 

“What is it?”

 

“This is a super stupid question, but, uh...how do I work this thing?”

 

You chuckle at that, but show her anyway. It’s a useful life skill, but given what she’s told you about her mom, you’re not surprised it’s one she’s never learned.

 

\---

 

“Now, we’re going to have to taste-test the sauce before we add it to the pasta.”

 

Roxy looks at you like you’re crazy. “Why’s that? We followed the recipe, so it should taste fine, right?”

 

“Well, I  _ do _ usually make this one according to the recipe, but I’d like you to taste the sauce. Tell me if you think it needs anything.”

 

She takes a bit of the sauce with a fork and eats it, swishing it around in her mouth for a moment.

 

“Needs more capers,” she finally says. “Thanks!”

 

Once the dish is done, you personally think the added capers are a bit much. Still, the smile on Roxy’s face as she digs in, as she gushes about how delicious it is, as she thanks you so profusely for teaching her, is worth every caper in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> It's my headcanon that none of the Lalondes can cook to save their lives, okay.


End file.
